


Right Down to the DNA

by OldDVS



Category: Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Humor, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Lestrade's wife bashing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-05
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 02:28:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,329
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22576333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldDVS/pseuds/OldDVS
Summary: Gregory Lestrade's five children are about to get their world turned upside down by a tall man in a nice suit.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade
Comments: 10
Kudos: 127





	Right Down to the DNA

**Author's Note:**

> I got a little heat in a few other stories for my less than flattering depictions of Lestrade's wife. Just to warn you, this one takes it a little further and paints her as Not Very Good. I dunno, there's just something about the dynamic that pushes a button, I guess.

Right Down to the DNA

“Good evening. My name is Mycroft Holmes. I understand that some of you have met my brother, Sherlock. You have my sympathy.

“I wish to apologize for taking you from the usual activities of your day. I must inform you that this imposition will extend through today and most of Saturday as well. This morning we will be addressing events and circumstances which have a profound effect on your future and your emotional well-being. I have made efforts to reduce the trauma, as well as the drama, which will ensue. Please feel free to vent, to make requests, to protest, as long as you do it with a degree of restraint. 

“To commence, I will state that it came as a surprise to me when I discovered a man with whom I wished to spend the rest of my life. I was shocked to find the interest returned. I was a bisexual who seldom glanced towards women. He was a bisexual who seldom glanced toward men. He expressed interest in furthering our acquaintance. I, for once, found the courage to pursue happiness.

“I must state at this point that Greg Lestrade and I have been acquainted for more than a decade. He had been divorced from your mother almost a year before we commenced dating. I am not a home-wrecker. Indeed, I did not take his interest seriously at first, but gradually we came to an accord.  
As a result, he proposed to me last month and I agreed to marry him. The process is not without challenges. He has a job and five children to consider. I have a unique job with horrific hours and a security clearance to accommodate.” He waited for the whispering to die down before continuing.

“Because of the security situation, all people with whom I am to be in close association must undergo an extensive background check. Believe me when I tell you that we check right down to the DNA. Greg's ex-wife, all his relatives, all the people he works with, and even the man he buys his sandwiches from for lunch, were investigated. Because of this process, you have been brought here today. 

“This may amuse you. The security services make routine background checks part of the training for new agents. A mentor does the investigation, then gives the same assignment to the trainee. The results from agent and trainee are compared. These results seldom match exactly, and can sometimes be significantly different. Each investigator explains how they obtained their results. It can be quite educational for all concerned.” Understatement. Eighteen investigators, two months, and at the end a full day of networking and data consolidation, most of which had nothing to do with the original assignment. Amazing what one could come across by accident. 

“When the investigation into Mr. Lestrade was complete, we presented the files to him. There were some surprises, especially in regards to his children.” Surprises. Humph. His Gregory in tears, to be precise.

Mycroft paused and looked at his audience. Each of the five young persons sat before a color-coded binder with their name neatly embossed in the lower right corner. A sealed bottle of water was placed above it and three pens to one side. At each place a box of the finest facial tissue he could find was prominently placed near the water. He had more tissue in the cabinet, although he hoped to God he would not need it.

As he spoke, each face had gone from confusion to suspicion with several emotions between. They had all been at school this morning when a black car had arrived. Only four black cars, for the twins had shared. It had been easier than it should have been to extract them from their classrooms. Words would be had with various administrators and a secretary or two.

So. Seated before him in his smallest conference room. Laura Lestrade, age 22. Michael and Alexander, the twins, age 19. Anton, age 17. Lynette Lestrade, 14 in two weeks. A blonde, two brunettes, a flaming auburn, and a deep black. Mycroft wondered again how Greg had not suspected.

Alexander said, “If you're going to tell us about Laura, don't bother. We can all do the math.”

Mycroft nodded. “Yes, she was born four months after your parents married. Not the surprise you might expect, as that was never hidden from you. What has been hidden from you was done so by your maternal parent. Who also hid the truth from her husband.”

“Mum? I'm shocked,” drawled Michael. He exchanged a glance with his twin and said, “Was it...Alex and I always thought we might...that Dad wasn't our....”

Lynette snorted. “You? You're both just like him. I'm the one who....” She didn't finish the sentence. Mycroft had held up his hand. 

“Thank you. To assist in answering these questions, I am now going to refer you to the folder before you. You will open it and find a dossier on yourself. It will include the details of the physical you received this morning and other data we have collected, including the results of an IQ test. There will the the name of your birth father, a photograph if available, a short biography of the man, and a DNA breakdown that will enlighten you as to your genetic and cultural heritage. After reading your file, you may share the information with your siblings as you desire. However, before you begin I will make a statement which you will find extraordinary. Each of you has a different father, and none of you is genetically related to Gregory Lestrade.”

He sat back to allow the storm to rage, the shouts to die down, the tears to be mopped up. He was glad of the tissues and water at each spot. Both were used as intended. It took ten minutes for the worst of it to abate. Not bad. He'd interacted with professional diplomats who couldn't manage to get it together in half that. 

It was finally quiet as each opened the folder before them and read. He watched their eyes as they absorbed the knowledge, the way they looked out of the sides of their eyes first at one sibling, then another. The twist of a lip, the stray silent tear. The fingernail dragged across the arm until it bled. Yes. Well.

Without actually looking at him, Laura said, “If each of us...I mean, what about the twins?”

The twins seemed to be in shock. They had exchanged folders, and then each took their own back. Struck dumb was not a good look on either of them.

Mycroft gave a short nod. “If two eggs are released at the same time, this is scientifically possible to produce fraternal twins with different fathers. As you know, one of the boys was smaller than the other at birth and required several weeks in hospital. That may be a consequence of...the circumstances.”

“None of us...is actually...Dad's?” Lynette asked. “I always thought I wasn't, but...” 

“At least you look like him. A bit. I always knew...suspected,” Anton said, gesturing towards his black hair.

“You never said anything.” Michael said, finding his voice at last. He wasn't looking at his brother. He wasn't looking at anyone.

“You didn't either.” Lynette snapped back.

“Let us not abandon our civility,” Mycroft soothed, in the tone he usually used for irate colleagues who were, indeed, beginning to lose their civility. “It is your choice to share the information in your folder with your siblings, and...” He was interrupted.

Anton said, “How do we even know this is true? Do you really expect me to believe I'm the son of a Russian sailor?”

“The DNA tests are included in your packet. You are welcome to have your own tests performed. As I was saying, it will be up to you to decide if you wish to contact your birth father. However, it is our hope that each of you make such effort only when you have reached the age of majority. Gregory Lestrade is your legal father and has the rights and responsibilities he has always had. He wishes me to tell you that he considers you all his children and will continue to treat you as he always has.”

“Did he know? About....” Laura asked, gesturing towards the folder in front of her.

Mycroft sighed. Yes. Well. “He says not. It could be that subconsciously he did not wish to acknowledge a perceived failure and...deceived himself.” Really, there was no other explanation.

“It explains...things. A bit.” Lynette rubbed her elbow as she spoke. Mycroft's eyes narrowed. He opened his own folder and found the results of her physical and studied them again. Then he smiled. There would be no question of custody once his team finished compiling the final reports. None at all.

“I do not know how you, as individuals, will use this knowledge. Whatever the past, you now have a wide variety of options for the future. You may not wish to live at home. After all, your mother is seldom there; Laura does all the housework and is grossly under-appreciated by you all. Laura's decisions may affect yours.” Laura looked as if she were close to tears again. He hurried on.

“Your options are before you in section Seven. School. For two of you I will suggest boarding schools designed to improve your scores and fast track your career options. However, know that all of your are welcome to come under your father's care. You would not live with us, precisely, but in an apartment in the same building. A secure facility, which would require more responsibility for your own actions than you currently maintain. Gregory would be able to see you more often. There would be a housekeeper. She would rule you with a hand more firm than you might like.

“I can say definitely that Lynette will reside there, and any of you, of course, can make that choice. Lynette will be undergoing medical procedures and may like occasional company.”

“What's wrong with her this time?” Michael said, rolling his eyes.

Mycroft said sharply, “The same that has been wrong since she was four years old, fell, broke several bones and was not treated.”

“But Mother took her to the doctor, I do remember that,” Laura protested.

“She might have said so, but there is only one record of a doctor treating her on this or several other occasions.” That doctor had apparently spent the appointment in an assignation with the child's mother and had not thought the child had been brought in because of an actual concern. Mycroft's people were currently investigating him thoroughly. “Your sister will have months of reconstructive surgery ahead of her. None of you need worry that your mother will contest our arrangements. She Would Not Dare.” The frost in Mycroft's voice caused them all to hunch.

“You mean all the whining and the crying and the....” Anton trailed off, staring at his little sister. 

“Were because she is in constant pain. No one will ever again not be heard in this family.” Mycroft said it firmly, and made sure he had eye contact with each of them in turn. Lynette had her hand crushed against her mouth, and slow tears dripping down her cheeks. Laura got up and gave her youngest sister an awkward hug. Mycroft waited until things had calmed and Laura had sat down again. But before he could continue, Laura spoke up.

“So. Why isn't Dad here? Why are you the one telling us?” She was tapping the end of her pen on the table, eyes slightly narrowed, and at that point looked much like Gregory.

“Faced with the truth, he was unable to decided how to present you with the facts in a way to minimize the emotional impact. He did not know when to speak to you, what to say. He did not want to hurt you. He didn't know what would hurt you least. It was causing him distress. I finally told him to leave it in my hands. Presenting a briefing such as this is within my skill set and...I don 't believe he would have been able to do it without breaking down.” Mycroft sighed. “For some reason he feels he has failed you. I...don't think he understands his own reactions. He loves each of you and is afraid of losing you. Of being rejected by you. I have said that you each love him, that his worry is unnecessary.” Mycroft stated. It was true, but upset people hurt each other. It was why he had spent so many years avoiding entanglements himself.

“I know, he knows, that everyone will need help through these next months as we settle into a new norm. Each of you will find in the folder a page about a counselor selected for you. We have tried to match each of you with a respected professional and will provide transportation to and from the sessions. If you find the match is not good we will find a person with whom you can relate. Your father and I each will have guidance as well. I am determined to proceed through this unfortunate phase with the least stress for each of us.

“I have even arranged for your mother to have help, if she will accept it. I think she will in need of support. I do not believe that even she knows the paternity of some of you. I do not know if she understands her own motivations. She will be stressed. That is why I suggest that each of you take up our offer of living here, until she reaches a more stable equilibrium. It is my understanding that when she is...unhappy, she...shouts.”

That was being quite diplomatic. She relieved her emotions verbally, and by occasionally chucking a non-lethal item in the direction of the individual who had raised her ire. It kept her family walking on eggshells, careful not to cross her. Willing to compromise rather than hold their ground. 

“Isn't the agreement that when the last of us leave the flat, it will be sold and the profit split between them?” Alexander asked, thoughtfully.

“For that reason she may not object should you choose not to live at your current home.” Mycroft had his own opinion about how heartbroken she would be to find herself totally free of dependents. “Your father will put his half of the sale unto the support of the apartments you will occupy here. I should perhaps mention that should you change residence to this location, you will each have your own room, if you wish. Your own computer, phone and bathroom. Other amenities, such as an exercise room, will be shared.” 

Eyes went wide. Mycroft successfully did not show his own reaction to this, beyond the slightest of smiles. He knew that currently, they lived in a large three bedroom flat; the boys shared the largest bedroom room and the girls shared one somewhat smaller, while the smallest room was used by their mother. 

He had them. He knew it. But just to nail it down completely, he added,” If you stay here or with your mother, either way you will be receiving a new wardrobe. Some of the garments will be chosen by my staff; clothing that will allow you to be presentable at certain occasions, such as your introduction to my parents. Those occasions will be rare, perhaps four times a year. To compensate for this loss of your time and dignity, you will be each initially be allotted a thousand pounds for your own garment selections. This is to be used only for clothing and shoes. Not lotion, creams and shampoo,” he glanced at Laura, “or music,” he let his eye catch Anton's, “or books,” he added with a nod to Lynette. “Those will be obtained with other funds.”

There was whispering and exchanged glances. Mycroft waited a moment and then said, “No decisions will be made today, however, by the end of tomorrow you will be asked to make some preliminary plans. We will now break for lunch. You five will be dining in private room with a buffet,” comfort food and all your favorites, “and you will be alone that you might have private conversations about the information presented today. In the afternoon you will meet your counselors and set up your sessions, then have a tour of the living quarters.” Who would get which room would probably give his diplomacy and manipulation skills more exercise than any negotiation he had undertaken this month. Or year.

“The evening meal will be served at that location, and your father will be in attendance. He will spend the rest of the evening with you. I shall not be present,” the situation in the Middle East would keep him busy well past mid-night. “Tomorrow morning I will join you and your father for breakfast at nine. He insists on making the food for you. Your time until lunch will be unstructured, but after that meal, until four, you will have security training on the matter of your new phones and computers. At four, cars will arrive take you home.”

Mycroft again made eye contact with each of them and said, “One more decision will have to be made tomorrow. How do you wish to inform your mother of these events? You may do it yourself, or I, or my assistant, could explain matters to her before you arrive home. No matter which scenario is chosen, you will have your phones with our numbers already programed in. If she reacts negatively, or if you wish it, one call will have the car at the door to bring you back. If you need help packing and wish to vacate completely, please say so at that point.”

They'd left notification that the children were spending two days with their father with his ex-wife. Mycroft wondered if she would be there waiting for them when they arrived home. It was hardly ethical and he didn't plan to tell Gregory, but he had already bugged the house. He wished to evaluate her reaction, and make sure nothing got out of hand. Literally, given her penchant for launching objects when she was most angry. He would have two very large men on stand-by that evening.

He wondered if Lynette would want to switch schools immediately. She would not be comfortable knowing the P.E. teacher there had actually fathered her, and seeing her own mother in the hallways might be problematical as well. He wondered if Anton had read far enough to realize that his sailor father had a half dozen illegitimate children in ports all over the world, giving him a total of ten half-siblings? Ten known, at any rate. Alexander's married father had two legitimate children and Michael's married father had one. There were delicate situations to navigate. Laura's alcoholic father had died in a car accident the year she was eight, for which Mycroft was grateful. He seemed to have been a less that admirable man, in and out of jail. 

He shook himself out of his moment of contemplation and looked again at the young people who would soon be his step-children. He was going to do his best to make sure things went well for Gregory, and that meant supporting him emotionally through this identity crisis as a father.

He wondered how long it might be before the children realized that he would not, exactly, be a step-father. If he had been a woman he would have been a step-mother. Evil step-mothers were a cliché for a reason. 

He hoped they would not hate him. Mycroft Holmes, evil step-mother. Not the role he wanted at all. He was going for kindly, avuncular gent with deep pockets. That he could probably manage.


End file.
